


Dark Chocolate Is Bittersweet

by OopsSpooks



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Author Projecting onto TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Bittersweet Ending, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I Wrote This While Listening to Mother Mother, Nonbinary TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Sad TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Scared TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Touch-Starved TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Trans TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), author is going through it, because not every story can end happily, im gonna be really honest here, its very obvious, no beta we die like my beta reader who didn't read this before i posted, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 01:54:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30132219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OopsSpooks/pseuds/OopsSpooks
Summary: you can't replace them, you never willno matter how many friends you see as family, you'll have to return to that housewhere despite everything you've arguedyou're still wrongor tommy thinks back and likens their life to a piece of dark chocolate
Relationships: Eret & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 137





	Dark Chocolate Is Bittersweet

**Author's Note:**

> i had a rough day
> 
> it shows

Life was hard. Everyone had their problems, something that just irked them day in and day out. It was normal, the ordinary thing really, but some things were just too much. Tommy was barely seventeen, but he often wondered if his youth was stolen a bit too quickly. Growing up was apart of life, but the teen was faced with the harsh reality of rejection much too quickly.

He was thirteen, free to do what he pleased on the internet. No restrictions, no watchful eye over his shoulder questioning his every move. The present-day Tommy mourned the youthful spirit that was torn to pieces. The blonde had unparalleled freedom because he’d never done anything to contradict it. He joined communities online, fixed his schedule around his online idols, and overall made space to just be himself on the internet. 

Tommy couldn’t remember the exact moment when the word gay meant more than something that passed in adult conversations. There was no specific day, but there was a clear divergence between the before and after. Suddenly the young boy’s head was sent spiraling as he explored this seemingly endless community where hundreds of thousands of people were discovering and living their truth.

The kid had just wanted that happiness, the joy that so many of the community expressed. He didn’t know why so many people were spiraling into depression. He didn’t know why that happiness seemed like a frivolous dream to so many. He was so sheltered that the blonde didn’t know why wanting to be like these people was much bigger of a revelation than he thought.

The pretty colors on the flags weren’t for show, they were something people who were broken by society’s rules to rally under. Wanting a multitude of those bright banners attached to him wasn’t something Tommy could just choose, but then again, maybe that’s what got him started in the first place. The colorful celebrations and rejoicing people caught the boy’s attention, and there was no going back.

He was fourteen when he finally accepted that maybe he wasn’t straight. There were no happy tears, no grateful feeling when he found the “right” label. There was a lot of confusion, a lot of questions, and very few answers. Tommy couldn’t figure it out, he poured hours into finding the most obscure of labels that could help, but nothing did. Everything he tried felt wrong, and he didn’t miss the annoyance on his friends’ faces when he changed his sexuality’s name for the third time.

Tommy had known those kids since they were toddlers, he just couldn’t see the toxicity growing between them. Maybe he did see it but ignored the obvious signs. The blonde just wanted to be happy. He remembered his shock when he found out about the universal queer experience known as coming out. Tommy had been so wrapped up in his confusing sexuality he didn’t think about his family. His friends only knew because he had panicked to them about the confusing feelings. _He didn’t think about how he might not have told them if he knew what it would mean, he ~~didn’t~~._

The blonde knew how to use his resources, he scoured online communities full of LGBT+ people and saw how they had handled coming out. One tactic seemed to be the most common and Tommy figured it couldn’t hurt. So on the train home from a night out with his parents, the blonde asked a simple question. “Hey what do you think about the LGBT?” It wasn’t random, he had made sure it somewhat fit into the conversation. Little did he know that would be the start of a world of conversations doomed to fail.

“Oh I don’t mind them, I just wouldn’t wish that life for my own kid.” Tommy felt his heart stop, _what?_ No, no, no that couldn’t be right. This was where they were supposed to be supporting. This is where they were going to show their acceptance with twinkling eyes that were already guessing what he was getting at. They were supposed to open the door for him to safely come out. _They were supposed to-_

The truth was one Tommy had worried about for countless hours, so many nights spent starring at his ceiling thinking of the worst possible outcome. He wasn’t getting kicked out, but his situation was clear to see. Maybe that’s where his mental health had started to decline, when he realized that the fairytale stories he saw online weren’t going to be accompanied by his own. The fourteen-year-old took his place amongst the thousands who had to live their lives in fear of their families’ opinions. He didn’t know if he was proud.

So he kept quiet, and after a while it was ok. Sure sometimes he wanted to scream until he couldn’t breathe, but at least his friends were nice. At least he still had a roof over his head, others had it so much worse. He wasn’t a sob story, he just had a few more obstacles than other people. When Tommy settled on that conclusion, his mind began to wander. From past experience, the blonde knew something was to come of it.

He joined more online communities, finding comfort in making dark jokes about the mental trauma many others seemed to share with him. Tommy was fifteen and a half when the unthinkable happened. The blonde didn’t know how to be careful, sure he understood the slight danger of his situation, but it didn’t hit him. That is until after a scathing argument with his mom, Tommy sent a ranting text to his friend.

When his mother came in not two minutes later, demanding his phone and old laptop he still didn’t understand. It was when the door finally shut on his room that the realization struck him. _He hadn’t text his friend._ The angry message had been sent to the subject, full of curses and fuming words. Tommy had never felt such dread and fear, and for a week, an entire week, the blonde had walked on eggshells. Nothing was ever mentioned, and he let himself think the simple password on his phone would keep his secrets.

Exactly eight days later is when the other shoe dropped. His mom had yelled for him to come downstairs on a rare Friday he had off from school. When Tommy made it downstairs, dread started to pool in his stomach. His father was home from work, sitting calmly beside his mother at the dinner table. A chair was already pushed open for the teen to sit in.

A small part of the teen whispered reassurances that nothing was wrong, that they were just going to give him his devices back and move on. Nothing would come of this, he could go back to his normal life. “We went through your phone, Thomas.” Scratch that, he knew where this was going, but yet the next words still made the blonde’s throat close. “I won’t lie to you, I hope it’s a phase.” 

It was somehow worse than he had imagined. Did they not know how much that hurt? They wanted it to be a phase, _they wished he wouldn’t be himself._ The rest of the conversation blurred in his memories. He didn’t know if the tears and panic had clouded his head or the torturous words got blocked in an attempt to save himself from the pain. Tommy only remembered the guilt he felt, his parents going on and on about how they had failed as parents.

He doesn’t remember why they felt like failures. Were they upset they missed his declining mental health? Or were they upset they didn’t catch his straying sexuality before it was too late? Sometimes the blonde is overcome by a wave of righteous anger that doesn’t match the memory, _who were they to tell him who he was?_ The part of Tommy that was still a dependent kid whispered that they were supposed to guide him. Maybe that was the first time he realized that he grew up a little too fast.

Through the blur of tears and the anguish tearing his head to pieces, Tommy had been told about the therapy he would receive. Every Wednesday, his mom drove him to the tall building. Its walls were cold and dreary, the long hallways giving him no comfort. The blond remembered chanting the room’s number in his head, terrified to text his mother he had forgotten again. Ever since the confrontation, they couldn’t agree on anything. 

Tommy’s whole world had been changed in a few seconds, everything that he was so used to had been altered or completely taken away. His phone had hundreds of restrictions, every email and password he owned were written in a neat book on his mom’s desk. The friends he made online were contacted and abandoned, his old phone number tossed to the masses. The new one he had to spread to schoolmates was accompanied by countless questions he didn’t have the heart to answer.

The therapist was an old woman, sitting in the same stuffy room every Wednesday. She looked at him like she knew exactly what was wrong, Tommy took delight every time she was shocked by an answer. The silver sign on her door mocked him, the bold letters taunting him every time the blonde closed his eyes. The woman was a family therapist, his mental health and sexuality being brought up uncomfortably often for someone who specialized with _groups._

The teen didn’t really get an opinion anymore, he wasn’t trusted in his own household anyway. It almost didn’t faze Tommy when his long-time friends screamed at him in front of countless classmates. Almost. It didn’t faze him when the people he had helped countless times called him a heartless monster and rejected the pleas of his love for them. _Almost._

When they let go of him, the last strings tying the teen down had been cut. He began to float through each day, the usually wildly beating heart in his chest falling still. Tommy clung to classmates he barely knew, the people reluctantly letting him into their circles. He knew he didn’t belong, but the feeling was becoming customary. His home life remained cold, any interactions he held with his parents felt fake and showy. 

When the ten weeks ended, his therapist sessions stopped, and despite the woman’s advice to “just talk to his parents”, nothing else was said. Tommy’s parents never mentioned his sexuality again, the restrictions suffocating him were treated like they were nothing new. Everything became a blur of anguish and anger after that. The weeks seemed to repeat themselves and nothing could save the blonde from the whiplash of seeing his own life pass him by.

Starting streaming was his first chance at escape. Making the account while his father watched over his shoulder carefully, commenting sporadically when he deemed the teen to have joined too many discord servers. Tommy didn’t care, the seemingly regular situation giving him a wondrous feeling of euphoria. He ignored how normal kids were doing this without any trouble, maybe his parents were _finally_ trusting the blonde again.

When he met other small streamers and found a best friend in a brunette his age, the teen was admittedly terrified. Situations from only a few years ago flashed through his head constantly. He couldn’t do that again, but the blonde didn’t want to give up the friends he had made. Meeting some of his idols shocked Tommy for days on end, but the explosion of his streams in popularity was the icing on the cake.

He remembered tentatively asking his father for better equipment, the blonde hadn’t talked about something that passionately since he was a kid. Tommy had been so relieved when both his parents gave him the ok to pursue streaming. Finally, the blonde could call something his own. Every stream was his own art piece, despite his lack of creative skills in art or writing, the teen could make people laugh. His audience came back for his bits and interactions with friends, they came back for the rare epic moments in Minecraft, _they came back for Tommy._

Techno, Wilbur, Phil, Techno, Tubbo, Eret, Ranboo, the list goes on. Countless people that loved Tommy for his brash humor that hadn’t shown itself since he was thirteen. They adored his tendency to mother hen people twice his age when the camera was off. They were ecstatic to have his energetic presence there to help lift them all up. His friends were happy to have the blonde teen as a person they could always trust.

When the crisis his head loves to fall in comes back around, Tommy almost isn’t scared. When a few friends like Eret proudly show their gender lying outside the binary, the teen isn’t surprised when he finally stands beside them. He tells Tubbo first, the acceptance he receives leaving the teen winded. Tommy is nonbinary, they like most people and don’t particularly care what gender they identify as. It’s a relief to finally think about the question that had terrified them as a child.  
Of course, the realization comes with a world of trouble, their head hurts every time their parents say the wrong pronouns, but they have their friends to fall back on, they have a chaotic discord full of welcoming friends to help them. Tommy knows that some days that is enough. Sadly, they know that oftentimes their friends can’t compete with their longing for their family’s acceptance.

Their parents still call them “he”, their birth name is uncomfortably wrong, but no other title has brought them comfort. They don’t have a name that strikes them as home, there is no name that they can call their own. So Tommy will have to do, the nickname better than the masculine name of Thomas their parents refuse not to use. Despite the journey they’ve taken, the scars they bear, it never seems to be enough. Because Tommy still questions everything they think they are. 

Are they really nonbinary? Would this sexuality label fit better than this one? _Were their parents right?_ Their friends are always there to ease their mind when these questions become too much, but they still plague their head. Tommy doesn’t know if their gender was out of spite of their parents’ blatant transphobia or if the transphobia was so obvious because they were nonbinary. The blonde didn’t know if the chicken or the egg came first, and they often think the mental trauma runs too deep for them to tell. 

That morning had gone fine, they were eating lunch when the conversation that had left them spiraling occurred. Their mother was sitting with them, reading through different articles on her laptop. “Oh did you hear about the trans guy that won Miss. Nevada in America?” Tommy rose a single eyebrow, wait what? They voiced their confusion and the blonde’s mom kept talking, her nose wrinkling. “Yeah he’s beautiful don’t get me wrong, but he obviously won cause he’s trans.” 

The confusing use of pronouns finally prompted Tommy to hesitantly ask the pageant winner’s pronouns. “Oh he thinks he’s a girl, but he only won because he’s transgender. They had to give it to him.” The blonde’s stomach turned, despite his parents’ denial of homophobia, it was usually clear as day. “Don’t you mean she won?” Their voice was soft as they picked at their meal. Tommy’s mom rolled her eyes, thankfully not picking up on her child’s reason for saying so. 

“He, hunny, no matter what he wants to do, he’s still a guy. It’s just his biology.” Their heart throbbed in a dull pain, sometimes the teen could pretend they would be accepted. Tommy could imagine a world where their parents would love them no matter what and support their decisions and life. Moments like these reminded the teen that it was just a fairytale they’d never live. “It’s like when men who say they’re girls compete in female athletics. It’s not fair to those poor girls who are just biologically _different_ than men.”

It was a difficult task, trying to argue against their mother’s transphobic comments without accidentally outing themselves. The painful memories from the blonde’s parents finding out about their sexuality still haunted them. Their transphobia was somehow worse than their homophobia, and the teen wasn’t even MTF. Hell, nonbinary would be unheard of to them. “Well, it’s kinda like Michael Phelps right?” Tommy nearly shrunk back when their mom sent a questioning look their way. Oh god, was he really going to argue this? “He has so many biological advantages that make him a fantastic swimmer so what difference is it if a female who was born male competes in women’s sports. It’s just another biological thing.” The blonde prayed that would make sense, they hoped their mom could see what they were trying to say and move on.

“No, it’s not, that’s completely different!!” They wanted to cry as their mother continued to use a trans person’s “choice” as an excuse to be blatantly transphobic towards them. Tommy wanted to scream every time their mother used “he” pronouns for the pageant winner when she obviously was female. “It’s not like he had to be trans like it’s so weird how people’s minds just tell them something different than their biology.” The blonde ignores the irony in their mom using gender-neutral pronouns and instead focuses on the common misconception of a “choice.”

“Well, they don’t really get to choose right?” Tommy stumbles over their words at the narrowed eyes of their mother. _Shit._ “I- I mean I’ve never met a trans person, but like they don’t really choose to be trans right?” Their head is screaming, of course it’s not a choice. They’d know obviously, but _fuck,_ they can’t say that.

“Thomas, of course they choose it, no one is born like that.” The conversation ends soon after with Tommy noticing the tension in their mother’s shoulders. It’s less than an hour later when the whirling thoughts the blonde has kept at bay break free. Their mother had come back shortly after to start preparing dinner early. Tommy had noticed a simple change in the recipe and not wanting their mother to get stressed later on, pointed it out.

“Oh mum, there’s a change right there.” Without looking up, their mother says it’s fine. The blonde keeps reading and sees it might affect the whole recipe. “No mum I think-” The spoon clatters out of her hand loudly as she whirls around scowling. “Would you stop contradicting everything I say!” Her voice is too upset for a simple cooking mistake and the familiar sinking feeling makes Tommy involuntary lower their head. 

The tears prick angrily at the blonde’s eyes, but the watchful eyes of their father from the living rooms keeps them in. Their mom had already stomped off and dread fills the teen as they realize the slight implications of her anger. Did she think Tommy was trans? They hate the fact the question still feels misplaced because if they’re right, their mother thinks the blonde “wants” to be a girl. _And that’s still wrong._

Hours pass doing homework, the blonde letting their mind slip into equations and historical facts in order to ignore their rising headache. The mental breakdown is creeping into their senses, but they ignore them in favor of finishing the last chemistry problem. When a discord call rings cheerfully from the computer sitting on their desk, Tommy picks up, still ignoring the fact that _they are not ok._

And the tired chatter of their friends helps more than they thought it ever could. It feels like a miracle every time a quip from Techno makes them laugh or Tubbo’s tired dozing off makes them smile. Phil is scolding one of them every time they shout too loud, intent on keeping the teenagers of the call out of an argument with their parents. The causal use of Tommy’s pronouns makes them grin more than they’d ever admit, but the matching smile Eret wears shows she feels the same way. It’s a safe place and the whole group knows it.

The blonde opens their bottom drawer, taking a small piece of candy out. It’s a piece of simple dark chocolate and the bitter taste overwhelms their senses momentarily when they take a bite. Tommy looks up when a string of fast thoughts brings back their stinging tears. The teen’s life was much like the bittersweetness of the dessert. They had so many wonderful memories, but they could not be remembered without the bitter moments that accompanied the good. 

Tommy cannot ignore their past, those experiences have shaped them into who they are. Whether for good or bad, bitter or sweet, the blonde is who they are even if they don’t know exactly who that is. A round of laughter draws their eyes back to the screen, and Ranboo is nearly falling out of his chair shaking. Tubbo’s hair is a ruffled mess and the teen’s face is shoved into a ridiculously sized plushie of a bee, he’s asleep. The blonde muses that Twitter would murder to see the image in front of them.

They smile and laugh along, the thoughts have not left them, but an odd feeling has replaced their grief. It’s something akin to contentment and it’s achingly unfamiliar to the teen. Tommy smiles slightly, maybe just maybe, they can start to let go of some of the past. They had a whole future to look forward to, and the present would give them hell for it, but Tommy was going to fight for the life they wanted to live. _And they weren’t going to lose._

**Author's Note:**

> after writing this i feel much better than i did before so thats good :)
> 
> thanks for reading, this was the most personal thing ive posted so please be kind


End file.
